


Sweeter Than Frosting

by Lillyjk



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: First Kiss, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, M/M, cupcake fic, horrible childhood clint
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-08
Updated: 2015-01-08
Packaged: 2018-03-06 18:21:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,117
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3144020
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lillyjk/pseuds/Lillyjk
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Phil had made cupcakes.</p><p>With candles.</p><p>Birthday cupcakes.</p><p>Clint tries to swallow past the lump that was rising in his throat. Nobody has ever made him birthday cake or cupcakes or anything before. He vaguely remembers Barney stealing a pack of Ding Dongs for him one year and the Bearded Lady used to sneak him cotton candy. But he'd never actually had birthday cake made especially for him before.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sweeter Than Frosting

**Author's Note:**

> What can I say, it was Renner's birthday yesterday. On twitter we were talking about the possibility of Renner being on the AoS set to do a cameo and there being cake and well...here we go.

“You made cupcakes?” Clint says. Although to be fair, the things bore only a passing resemblance to anything cupcake-like. They were kind of round and lumpy but the stuff spread on the top of each little brown lump was definitely frosting of some sort. It was white frosting with multicolored sprinkles mixed it. A candle sat jauntily atop one of the half dozen or so cupcakes on the plate.

 

Phil swipes a hand across the back of his neck and looks somewhere over Clint's shoulder, a faint blush spreading across his cheeks.

 

It was Saturday night and they were hanging out at Phil's apartment doing their usual _thank god we survived another week and the world didn't end_ pizza and Dog Cops wind down. It was always the highlight of Clint's week.

 

He likes getting to see Phil in jeans and v neck sweaters instead of suits, his glasses making him look more professor than secret agent. It makes Clint feel like they were just two normal guys without the weight of the world on their shoulders. Plus, he kind of likes being able to sprawl out on Phil's couch and tuck his toes under the edge of Phil's legs when he gets cold.

 

Clint had shown up with a couple of pizzas and a six pack. Just like normal. Just like he does every Saturday night when they were both in town and there was no imminent crisis on the horizon. Just a couple of guys hanging out, not acting on their mutual attraction.

 

If, more nights than not, they end up falling asleep together on the couch, well Clint's apartment was across town. The fact that they sometimes wake up with hands that have wandered during the night was something they didn't talk about. Nothing has happened other than some really frustrating morning wood.

 

Tonight they'd eaten their way through too much pizza and all of the beer and Clint is sitting back on the couch rubbing his belly when Phil comes out of the kitchen with a plate full of cupcakes.

 

Phil had made cupcakes.

 

With candles.

 

Birthday cupcakes.

 

Clint tries to swallow past the lump that was rising in his throat. Nobody has ever made him birthday cake or cupcakes or anything before. He vaguely remembers Barney stealing a pack of Ding Dongs for him one year and the Bearded Lady used to sneak him cotton candy. But he'd never actually had birthday cake made especially for him before.

 

He'd pretty much forgotten that today was his birthday until he saw the cupcakes.

 

“Yeah,” Phil says finally, sitting down beside Clint on the couch. “I made cupcakes.” He pushes the little plate with cupcakes down the coffee table until they were directly in front of Clint. “I mean, it's a mix and they're probably not very good. Some of them burned and I think I got eggshell in the batter but,” he shrugs. “Cupcakes.”

 

He turns to look at Clint with those blue eyes that never missed a thing. “Thought we could celebrate your birthday.” He's sitting close enough that Clint can see that there is a little smear of frosting at the corner of his mouth, just a dab of white right at the corner. “That okay?”

 

Clint nods, not trusting himself to speak.

 

“Good.” Phil says, reaching in his pocket and pulling out a lighter. He carefully picks up the cupcake with the candle and passes it to Clint before lighting the candle. “Happy birthday, Clint. Make a wish.”

 

Clint stares at him, something sweet and warm uncurling deep down in his stomach. The moment stretches on until a drop of hot wax hits his finger. He lets out a startled little laugh and then blows out the candle, plucking it out of the cupcake and setting it back on the plate.

 

He hands Phil one of the other cupcakes, the warmth in his belly spreading when their fingers brush. “Thanks, Phil.”

 

Phil gives him that little half smile, mouth quirking up at the ends. “They're probably terrible. Don't thank me, yet.”

 

Clint reaches out with his other hand and brushes his thumb along the corner of Phil's mouth. “Looks like you've already tested out the frosting.” He likes the way Phil's lips feel firm but soft as he slowly wipes the frosting away. He brings his thumb to his own mouth and licks the traces off the pad of his finger. The frosting is way too sweet but just right the way birthday cake frosting should be.

 

Phil's eyes are on his mouth, and Clint's breath catches at the intensity he sees there.

 

Clint wants to kiss him. Has wanted to kiss him so many times. They've been doing this same little dance around each other for years, neither of them bold enough to make a move in case things go south. Clint has a habit of fucking things up relationship wise and he's been so very careful with Phil. Phil is important to him.

 

Phil made him birthday cupcakes.

 

“Fuck it.” Clint mutters.

 

He puts his cupcake down. He reaches out and takes Phil's cupcake and sets it down too.

 

Phil doesn't say anything. He just watches him with those blue eyes that look huge behind his glasses.

 

Clint cups Phil's face in both hands. Phil's skin is warm, barest hint of stubble rough against Clint's palms. Clint feels the steady thrum of Phil's pulse where his fingers curl under Phil's neck, he can feel how it speeds up when Clint leans in.

 

The kiss is sweeter than the frosting. It's like a sugar rush when Phil's lips are against his, sliding apart to let him in. It's brand new but familiar at the same time because this is the man that Clint trusts like nobody else. This is the man that brought him in from the cold, the man that's had his back so many times. The man that Clint would walk through fire for.

 

Phil's tongue strokes along Clint's bottom lip and Clint thinks about how many times he's been distracted by Phil licking his own lips during a briefing. He wants Phil's mouth on his and Phil's hands on him and he wants all the homemade birthday cupcakes that Phil wants to make him.

 

By the time they get around to actually trying the cupcakes sometime Sunday morning, they're actually pretty shitty.

 

The cake, if it was ever moist, has dried out. The frosting has hardened.

 

Phil wants to throw the whole lot of them away. Clint convinces him otherwise by showing him just how creatively sub-par cupcakes can be put to use.

 

Phil admits that the frosting stain on the couch is totally worth it.

 

 

 


End file.
